Home Alone

Many trans women and crossdressers I’ve spoken with have had that one special moment. Driven by some inner urge, one day they approached their wife’s, mother’s, or aunt’s closet out of curiosity to play with the lingerie. First, picking up the nylon stockings, feeling them, and then putting them on for the first time. Feeling the sensation against their skin. Then maybe a garter belt, and already the first drops of precum are dripping from their stiff cocks. Do you know that feeling? And then you want to feel that way over and over again. And you want to dress up more and more. You order high-heeled boots, a wig, and makeup supplies. At first, it’s not really convincing as feminine, but you keep getting better. You might start enlarging your breasts with suction cups or get some fake boobs. Jewelry. You paint your nails. You walk around the apartment in stockings and suspenders, wearing high heels, with a stiff cock and bouncing tits, and you love that feeling. It’s like a drug. And with each passing time, your urge to transform grows stronger. You look forward to the weekend from the start of the week, when you can live out your desires. Or—as in this case—when your partner is out and you have the apartment all to yourself.

You can see what happens next in Alex’s example. Or should I say Alexandra? A new short story. 

Love XXX Annika